Queen Of Love And Beauty
by LadySmallwood08
Summary: A small piece concerning Arya's beauty.


_Queen of Love and Beauty_

She was watching him practise again.

It was the third time in the last fortnight. Ever since their talk, Arya had been following him around; chattering on about this and that, complaining about needlework, expressing her wishes to learn to ride horses and fight with a bow or sword (or both, she had compromised — much to his amusement).

Jon did not mind. He was glad for the company, and the freedom she had shown around him. But then again, Arya was only five. Sansa had called him 'half-brother' for the first time when she was six years old. Since then she turned up her nose when she saw him. Arya may love him now, but most like it would not last.

Even so, he was determined to enjoy it while she was willing.

When Robb parried his strike, Jon grinned. He'd learnt the tactic from Ser Rodrick himself. Quickly Jon twisted his wooden sword away, while Robb's side was still exposed, and whapped him hard against his ribs.

Robb grunted, startled, and dropped his stick.

There was a cheer from behind them. Jon turned, his eyes finding Arya from where she sat atop the railing of the weapons shed. Her legs were swinging as she clapped for him. "I knew you could do it!" She proclaimed.

Robb rolled his eyes at the both of them. "At least you have someone to root for you," he grumbled, rubbing his side.

Jon shrugged. "Mayhap Sansa will take an interest one day?" He suggested, though it wasn't very likely and they both knew it; Sansa was interested in girly things like embroidery and dresses. She would never watch them play at knights.

Robb shook his head. "Come, brother," he said, throwing an arm around Jon's shoulders. "Father will want us at breakfast."

He did indeed. Jon was seated between Arya and Robb, with Sansa and Bran the babe across from them. Father sat at the head of the table, and Lady Stark at the opposite end. She had protested against Jon sitting with them at first, as usual, but Lord Stark had put his foot down and said rather firmly that Jon was part of the family and therefore welcome at their table to break fast.

Not at feasts, Jon thought mournfully, but he didn't say anything.

The conversation had gone from Old Nan's stories to shadowcats to tourneys. For some reason, Sansa seemed to light up at this. "Oh, wouldn't that just be wonderful? To watch gallant knights fight? Perhaps I would even be crowned Queen of Love and Beauty! Oh, Father, can't we host a tourney here in the north? Everyone else does it!"

Father frowned. "Tourneys are shows, Sansa," he said. "A true knight shows his bravery in other ways; on the battle fields, or at his post."

Sansa deflated. "Yes, Father," she said quietly.

Robb wouldn't have any of it. "I bet I could beat a dozen knights," he boasted, though they both knew that it was not true. "And when I won, I'd crown you my Queen of Love and Beauty, Sansa." Their sister blushed prettily, satisfied, and smiled. Robb turned to Jon. "Who would you crown, then?"

For some reason, Jon felt his father stiffen. Jon bit back a scowl and thought. They waited. Beside him, Arya looked more subdued than he had ever seen her. She played with her food and would not meet his eyes. Jon decided then that they were all wrong about her; Sansa and Jeyne Poole, who would call her 'Arya Horseface' and neigh when she approached, and Theon and all of the rest of them. Arya had a beauty that could not be taught, and in some cases would never be noticed. An untameable grace. An unwanted dignity.

"Arya," he said shortly, and went back to his meal.

There was a silence. Probably everyone had expected him to say Sansa, too. Jon thought that was ridiculous.

Arya looked up at him, with wide, tearful eyes. "But _I'm_ not beautiful."

Robb furrowed his brow. Father gently set down his horn of ale with a sorrowful, regretful face. But Jon only mussed her hair. "Whoever told you that was stupid," he said to her. "You are beautiful. And you're _strong_."

She furiously brushed away a tear, leaned up, and kissed him on the cheek.


End file.
